One More Time
by InfinityStar
Summary: Goren was beginning to think he would never find a permanent partner. Then she came along and everything changed.
1. Introductions

They aren't mine. Dick Wolf owns them, lock, stock and barrel.

* * *

Jimmy Deakins opened the door to his office and looked out into the squad room. "Goren, come in here please."

That could mean only one thing. He had another partner for him. This was really getting old. He'd been at Major Case for nearly two years, and nine partners later Deakins still could not find someone who could work with him. The longest one stayed was almost four months; the shortest was three weeks. The average was about six weeks. He sighed and headed for the captain's office. In front of the captain's desk sat a petite blonde woman, young, very pretty. She was the only other person in the office. Maybe this wasn't about a new partner. "Bobby, this is Alexandra Eames. Alex, meet your new partner, Robert Goren."

She turned to look at him, seeing a big man, dressed in a nice suit, with warm dark eyes and a boyish charm when he grinned at her and said hello. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "It's nice to meet you," she said with a small smile.

A female partner, he mused. All this time his partners had been male, and he wondered about the change in gender. Sending Beauty in to calm the savage beast? Deakins cut into his thoughts. "Bobby will fill you in on the case he's currently working. Welcome to Major Case."

She stood up and accepted his outstretched hand. "Thank you, Captain."

Deakins looked at Goren. "Show her where her desk is, and, for Pete's sake, Bobby, try not to scare her off."

Goren managed a half-smile that looked more like a grimace. "Come on, Eames."

"I'll be right there."

He shrugged and left the office. Eames turned to Deakins. "Scare me off? What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing's wrong with him. Bobby is just…unconventional. But he's the brightest detective I have ever known. He has a way of getting inside a perp's mind and figuring out what's going on. He has a phenomenal solve rate. When he worked narcotics, his cases had a 100 conviction rate. He's been here at Major Case for almost two years now and he seems to have found his niche. The COD loves him—he makes us all look good. Just don't expect him to act like a traditional cop. He just has trouble keeping partners."

"Why?"

Deakins wasn't sure what to say because he wasn't exactly sure why Goren's partners never stuck around. "His methods are not exactly standard. There's actually nothing about him that's standard. You're partner number 10 since he's been here."

"Geez. And you're sure there's nothing wrong with him?"

"He's just intense, Alex. People have a hard time with that. You'll get used to him. He's a good man."

Eames left the office, not feeling very reassured. She looked around the squad room, locating her new partner with ease. She approached him but before she got close enough to say anything, he pointed to the desk in front of his. "There's your desk, Eames." He never even looked up.

As Deakins had requested, he filled her in on the case he was working, but when he was done, she just felt confused. When the phone rang, he grabbed it. "Goren." He listened intently. "Great. I'll be right there."

He got up and started toward the elevators, stopping when it finally clicked that he had a partner again. He stopped and motioned at her impatiently. "We have to see the M.E. Come on."

Feeling a little overwhelmed, Eames just got up and followed him from the squad room.


	2. Her First Day

They walked into the M.E.'s office. Looking up from a microscope, she crossed the room toward them. "I wanted you to see this," she said, looking at Eames hesitantly.

Goren followed her gaze. "Oh, this is my new partner, Alex Eames."

Eames wasn't sure if it was amusement or pity on the M.E.'s face. All she said, though, was "Nice to meet you."

The petite cop just smiled in return and followed them to an examining table, the only one that currently housed a body. She tried to follow along, watching as her partner snapped on a pair of gloves and began touching the body. He reminded her of a little kid. He had to be in the middle of everything, touching it. He noticed everything, too---well, everything but her. She wondered how long it would take him to remember she was there, to realize he had a friggin' partner. The M.E. stood patiently by as he pointed out a small injury on the man's chest. Eames frowned distastefully when he stuck his finger in a wound on the body, turning away when he grabbed a set of tweezers and pulled something out.

The M.E. grabbed a steel basin. "Well, look at that," she said. She hadn't yet gotten as far as the abdomen in her examination.

Eames heard the clang of metal on metal, turning back to see what he'd pulled out of the body. She frowned at the skinny metal object. "What is that?"

"An antique nail, hand forged, made of iron," he answered.

"What was it doing in the body?"

Goren half-grinned. "Good question." He looked at the doctor. "Call me if you find anything else."

"Don't worry." She looked at Eames with an expression that said "Good luck" and turned back to the body.

Heading out of the office she asked "What was it she wanted to show you?"

He looked down at her, slowing his pace when he noticed she was jogging to keep up. "You didn't see it?"

"No. You unsettled me when you started poking around the body."

"Oh. Sorry. There was an odd wound on the head. We need to go to the track."

"The track?"

"Horses, Eames. The head wound was made by a horses' shoe."

"We're looking for a horse?"

He stopped and looked at her, tilting his head oddly. "Kind of," he agreed. "Come on."

-------------------------------------------------------

She followed him through mud and muck from stall to stall, waiting outside, watching, while he examined each one. "You should have told me to wear boots today," she said.

He had bent over to look at a mark on the wall. He looked up at her from under his arm, which was braced on the wall. She held back a smile. He had his moments, moments that made her forget how weird he was. He was so much like a little boy in a lot of ways.

It was in the last stall on the second row that he found something. "Find out who owns the horse that stays here."

Glad to finally have something to do, she walked off to find a stable hand or someone. Later that afternoon, they arrested the owner of that horse.

---------------------------------------------

On the way back to the squad, he explained it all to her. The victim worked for the suspect, who discovered he was stealing from him. They got into an argument at the track two nights earlier, which escalated into a fight that ended up with one man dead. The suspect had knocked the victim down with a horseshoe to the head, killing him with a nail gun that was loaded with ancient, rusty iron nails. He was surprised it would even fire the irregular projectiles and guessed it had jammed after firing a few. The old nails had been used by farriers to shoe horses before the advent of modern steel nails. He'd found a scattering of those old nails in the hay on the floor of that last stall they'd looked at. He also found two more imbedded in the wall, the same way the one he had pulled from the body had been put there by force. The M.E. had called to let him know she had found the cause of death—another nail, right in the heart.

She studied him as he drove. "Do you always solve your cases in two days?"

He laughed. "Not hardly. This was an easy one."

"Do you get many of those?"

He shook his head. "No."

She sat back, trying not to notice how often he switched lanes and barely missed a taxi here and a bus there.

--------------------------------------------------

Back in the squad, Eames stood with Deakins and Carver, watching her partner in the interrogation room. Deakins had decided it would be a good thing for Eames to watch an interrogation before she stepped into one. "I've interrogated prisoners before," she protested.

"Not like _this_, you haven't," Carver replied.

Eames watched carefully as her new partner interrogated their suspect. Geez…where the hell did he get all that energy? She could read the anxiety on the suspect's face, and she couldn't blame him. She would feel anxious, too, if a cop that big was in her face. When the suspect looked down, trying to avoid eye contact, Goren followed him, bending over to meet the man's eyes.

Eames looked at Deakins and Carver. "Is he always like this?"

Deakins nodded. "Pretty much. I told you he was unconventional."

Carver added, "But he gets the job done, detective. And the confessions he gets stick."

The suspect suddenly threw back his chair, shoving the table into Goren and shouting at him. The big cop caught the table and yelled back, but the damage was done. The suspect had stepped into it and admitted to killing the victim. Eames was impressed.

She met him in the hall as he came out of the interrogation room. "That was quite a show in there."

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her. "You think so?"

"Your technique is…interesting."

This time he did smile. "Three partners left after seeing my first interrogation."

She laughed. "I can't say I'm surprised. But I'm not leaving."

His smile didn't fade as he studied his little partner. "Thanks," he said quietly.

She looked at the time; it was after seven. "If it's all the same to you," she said. "I am going to go home and shower. I smell like a stable."

He grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

She studied him for a minute, stopping at their desks. "Yes, Goren. You'll see me tomorrow."

He watched her leave. It had been a good day, and his first impression of his new partner was a good one. She'd been to the M.E. with him, followed him through the muck and mire in a stable and watched him interrogate a suspect. And she wasn't running for the nearest exit. She was a lot tougher than her size indicated. Previous partners had run for the elevators after much less, and this was just her first day. Maybe this one would work out for him. He hoped that he would work out for her, too.


	3. Give Him a Chance

Eames sat in the kitchen of her parents' home, looking over her coffee cup at her dad, who sat across the table from her. John Eames was a retired cop and he'd seen it all…well, maybe not _all_ of it, but a majority of it. Somehow she doubted he had ever seen the like of a cop like Bobby Goren.

"I really don't know what to make of him, Dad."

"It's only been a few weeks, honey. Give him a chance."

"I'm trying, but I feel like a spare tire, just along for the ride but not making any contribution to the trip."

"Have you told your partner that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not quite sure how to approach him."

"You're not afraid of him, are you?" He doubted she was; his scrappy little daughter was not afraid of anything. She never had been.

"No, Dad. I'm not afraid of him. Have you heard anything about him?"

"Some. But the rumors are a mixed batch so it's hard to decide what's true and what's not."

"I guess the rumors that concern me most are the ones about his stability."

John nodded. "I've heard those. But, honey, he has a clean record, and he's a brilliant cop. Maybe he doesn't follow the book, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Do you like him, Alex?"

She nodded. "I think so. He seems like a decent guy."

"Do you like being his partner?"

"So far, it's not horrible. But I've just worked the tail end of a manslaughter case and a robbery with him. Neither was too taxing."

"Trust me, Alex. You can't believe everything you hear. Judge him for yourself. Don't let others do it for you. Whatever he is, he's bright and dedicated. Give him a chance to earn your trust, and do what you have to in order to earn his. This is an excellent opportunity for you."

"An opportunity for what?"

He smiled. "An opportunity to work with a brilliant, unconventional cop. You could learn a lot from Goren. He'll teach you to think outside the box, if you let him. And I'll bet you can teach him a thing or two."

She laughed. "Like what?"

"You'd be surprised. Give him a chance."


	4. A New Case

Two weeks later, she had her first chance to investigate a homicide with him. Female victim, early thirties, found on her bedroom floor by her five-year-old daughter. The child had called the police in a panic, but by the time the first units arrived at the scene, she was gone. When the victim was identified as the niece of a state senator, Major Case was called.

First they surveyed the room as they pulled on their gloves. The CSU tech who greeted them said, "Vic's name is Elizabeth Reynolds. No one has touched anything. It's all yours."

Goren quietly said, "The struggle began near the window…they overturned that lamp…she got hit here." He swung his arm the way the killer would have, following the blood spatter pattern on the wall. He knelt beside a dark spot on the floor, touching it and looking at the blood that colored his fingertips. He followed the trail of blood across the sheets, to where she had fallen for the final, fatal assault.

Eames watched him, fascinated. As she followed his movements, listening to his mutterings, she found she could recreate the attack in her mind. He dropped to a knee beside the body and she moved to stand by him, watching to see what he was seeing. He lifted the woman's arm to reveal a healing bruise on the underside of her arm. He turned and looked at her. "Abuse?" she asked.

"Possibly." He gently slid her shirt up to reveal more healing bruises on her ribs. Sliding her skirt up toward her hips, they saw more bruises, all in various stages of healing. He moved toward her head. She had several open wounds, at least one of which had made the pattern of spatter on the wall as well as the puddle and trail of blood across the bed. He pointed to a bloody impression near her right temple. "That was the killing blow," he said.

He turned her over gently and found more bloody wounds as well as more bruises in various stage of healing, some fresh, most not. In all he counted more than twenty bruises. This woman was often used as a punching bag, and that made his mind turn to the little girl. He wondered if she was ok and how much abuse she had witnessed over her short life.

He turned her head to look at the left side of her face, discovering an odd mark near her ear. Eames frowned. "What's that? It looks like a burn."

He nodded. "Cigarette burn, maybe three days old. She has a few others that are healed. I think abuse is a reasonable assumption here."

He studied her face, frowning. Leaning closer, he smelled her breath. Eames looked at him oddly. "What the hell are you doing?"

"No alcohol, no smoker's breath." He stood up and looked at one of the techs. "Let the M.E. know we suspect a history of abuse. I want a full set of x-rays."

The tech nodded. "I'll tell her."

Eames was still looking at the body. She had never seen an investigator smell a corpse before. She looked at him, but he was on the other side of the room, squatting near the window. She walked over to him. "What?"

He held up a piece of broken glass. Pulling the heavy drapes aside, he studied the broken window. "Bag," he said softly.

"What?"

"Oh, sorry. I need an evidence bag."

She pulled one from her pocket and he dropped a piece of glass into it. Pointing to a side of it, he said simply, "Blood."

She pulled out another bag, waiting, and sure enough he found another piece of bloody glass. He returned to the body, pulling the door away from the wall to look behind it. "This was not a premeditated murder," he said as he reached behind the door. Pulling out a bat, he examined it, pointing to the end of it. "Blood and hair. The murder weapon," he said, handing it to one of the techs.

"Why do you think it wasn't premeditated?" Eames asked him.

He wasn't sure how to explain the things his gut told him, but he wasn't usually wrong. "I…just don't get the feeling it was."

She followed him out of the room, thinking he was blowing her off, and that irritated her. "Goren…" He turned on the stairs to look at her. "Am I missing something?"

"I don't know, Eames. Are you?"

It took a moment for her to realize he was serious. He really had no clue what she was referring to. "I want to know why you think this wasn't premeditated. All that abuse…"

"That doesn't mean he ever mean to kill her. Control her, yes. Maybe even punish her. But not kill her. I…I don't know how to explain it, Eames. You're just going to have to trust me."

Trust him? How was she supposed to trust a man who didn't trust her enough to explain what he was thinking on a case they were working together? Her partner, for Pete's sake. If he didn't trust her, how could he expect her to trust him? "Partners are supposed to trust each other, Goren," she hissed at him as they reached the bottom of the staircase. "Even with stupid things, like murder theories."

He stopped and she walked into him. He turned to look at her. "You think I don't trust you?"

She looked around at the cops scattered about the downstairs. Many of them had stopped to look at the detectives from the elite Major Case squad. "Never mind. We'll talk about it later."

"Eames…"

"_Not_ _here_," she growled. Pushing him out of her way, she asked where the first unit was that had responded to the scene. The two cops were in the living room. "Any sign of the child who made the call?" she asked them.

"Not a trace. Her bedroom is at the end of the hall upstairs, and it's perfectly in order."

"What about her father?"

"According to the senator, his name is Martin Reynolds. The kid's name is Kelly. Other than the master bedroom, there doesn't seem to be anything amiss in the house. There's a wall safe in the study, untouched. That desk over there has $700 in the center drawer. There's jewelry, and her purse still has cash, credit cards, checkbook. No indication this was a robbery gone bad."

"The senator have anything else to say?"

"No."

"Ok, thanks."

As they left the house, she was surprised he had let her handle that interrogation. He hadn't let her handle one before. They headed for the SUV. "Where to now?" she asked.

She didn't know him well enough to understand his silence. As he pulled the keys from his pocket, he said, "Why do you think I don't trust you?"

She rested her arms on the hood of the car. "You don't really let me do anything, Goren. I'm window dressing. And now you won't tell me what you're thinking about this murder."

"'Window dressing?' What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"It means I'm just along for the ride. You don't trust me to do anything but watch."

"I…" He thought about it. Maybe she was right. "I'm sorry, Eames. It's not that I don't trust you to do anything. You can do whatever you feel has to be done. It's just easier for me to do something when I think of it than to explain it. It's not as easy as you think it is to explain how I think."

She had no doubt that was true. "So why won't you tell me why this was not a premeditated murder?"

He placed his arms on the hood of the car opposite her and looked at her. "Eames, if it was as simple as saying 'this is it,' I would tell you. But it's not that easy. I just have a feeling, a gut instinct, that tells me something is right or wrong. I have to listen to what a scene tells me. This scene says anger, rage…but not the intent to come after her and kill her. The killer lost control, and this beating went bad. I can't explain it any better than that."

She met his eyes. He was trying. "All right," she said. "Thank you."

She moved to the car door, looking back at him when he didn't move. He was looking at the hood of the car. "Goren?"

He forced himself to look at her, and his face was troubled. "Sorry, Eames. I don't mean to…exclude you."

"Forget it. Where are we going now?"

He opened the car and unlocked the doors. "To talk to the senator."


	5. Interviewing the Senator

They found Trevor Edwards, state senator, in his Manhattan office. He looked distraught when they were shown in to his office. Eames stepped forward and introduced herself and her partner. Goren looked a little surprised, but he let her take the lead, not wanting to piss her off again. She sat in a chair in front of the desk. "Senator, what can you tell us about your niece and her husband?"

Edwards sat at his desk, looking at her with sad eyes. "They've been married seven years. What else do you need to know?"

As she questioned the senator, her partner wandered around the office, looking at the books and trinkets on the shelves about the room, the framed pictures on the walls. Every once in while she shot a nervous glance at him, wondering what he was doing and why she was handling the interview alone. That wasn't quite what she had meant by including her in the investigation. "How was their relationship?"

The senator hesitated, watching Goren looking at the pictures on the far wall. "It was rocky, but they loved one another."

Without turning, Goren asked, "Did he ever hit her?"

"What kind of question is that?"

The big cop turned and looked at the senator. "One we need answered."

Edwards frowned. "Whatever happened in private…" he began.

"Don't say it's no one's business, senator," he interrupted. "Your niece is dead, and we are trying to find out who killed her. Private isn't private any more." He pointed to a picture on the wall of a young couple with a little girl. "Is this your niece and her family?"

"Yes, it is."

"It's an odd picture to display. No one's smiling…and she's wearing dark glasses…"

"That was taken at the lake."

"But it's indoors."

Eames took control back. "We aren't looking for a scandal, Senator. We are looking for a killer…your niece's killer."

The senator sighed. "Like I said, detectives, they had a rocky marriage. Yes, Marty hit her. Often. We didn't like it, but there was nothing we could do. Only Liz could take action, and she refused, because she loved him and they had a baby together. To the best of my knowledge, he never harmed Kelly…never laid a hand on her."

Eames was shocked when Goren replied, "To the best of our knowledge, Kelly isn't dead. Her mother is. We're not investigating him for child abuse."

_Idiot_, she thought. Getting to her feet she told the senator, "Thank you for your time, Senator. We'll be in touch if we need any more information."

The senator nodded. "Good luck, detectives. Please keep me informed."

They left the office and when they stepped into the elevator, she said, "Are you always like that?"

He looked confused. "Like what?"

Great…he didn't even know he was an ass. "Never mind."

He leaned forward to look into her face. "Really, Eames…what are you talking about?"

"Stand up straight. You're creeping me out. You left me to question the senator by myself."

"No, I didn't. I heard every word you said."

"When you did talk to him, you were rude."

"I was? I just asked him questions we needed to have answered. I don't mean to be rude. I do need to get the answers we have to have."

She studied him. She got the definite impression he was being sincere. He really did not intend to be rude. He was just trying to get the job done. "Just try to use a little more tact, will you? Especially when we're interviewing a senator who is _not_ a suspect."

He thought for a moment. "Ok. I'll try."

They exited the building and headed for the car. "Can I ask you something, Goren?"

"Sure."

She waited for him to unlock the car doors and slid into the passenger seat, bracing herself for another ride. "Did you happen to be a fighter pilot in your previous life?"


	6. Lunchtime Discussion

The next day found them at the M.E.'s office again. She put up the x-rays and stood back as he looked at them. Eames said, "Do you even know what you're looking at, Goren?"

He glanced at her, but before he could respond, the M.E. said, "He will surprise you with what he knows, Detective Eames. I know he still surprises me. He knows what he's looking at."

"Well, I don't, so would one of you please tell me?"

Goren pointed to one x-ray after another. "She has healed fractures all over her body, Eames. This woman suffered many beatings, probably throughout the course of her marriage."

"How long were they married?" the M.E. asked.

"Seven years," Eames replied.

"I'd have to agree with him then. That's a lot of beatings."

Goren was talking to himself. "Ribs, collarbone, arm, hell…he even fractured her pelvis…" He looked over his shoulder. "How the hell do you do that?"

"That takes a lot of force, Detective. It could have been a car accident."

"Of he could have hit her with the car."

"Yes."

He turned away from the x-rays. "The body tell us anything new?"

"No. You have the whole story right there. You saw the cigarette burns, I assume."

He nodded. Eames answered, "He doesn't miss anything."

The doctor smiled. "You learn fast. No, he doesn't. If I find anything else, I'll let you know."

------------------------------------------------------------

As they walked down the corridor, he looked at her. "How about lunch?"

"Is it lunch time already?"

"It's almost one. I'll treat."

She smiled. "All right. What are we having?"

"There's a decent sandwich place not far."

"Can we walk?"

"Sure."

"Then it sounds great to me."

They sat in a booth with their lunches. Eames studied her partner. "So where do you think this guy is?"

"Canada."

"Really?"

"Really. Would you stick around? His wife was a senator's niece and now his abuse of her is going to come out…I know I wouldn't stick around."

"Would you ever do it?"

"Do what?"

"Abuse someone like that?"

"Do you think I would?"

She looked closely at him. "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Turn everything back around on me like that? You can't answer a simple question without turning it back into a question."

"That makes you think. It's a good habit to get into, thinking."

"Do you ever do _anything_ without analyzing it?"

"I used to. I try not to anymore."

"Why's that?"

"It causes too much trouble." He sat back and looked at her with intense, penetrating eyes that made her uncomfortable. "So, do you think I would abuse someone?"

"Stop staring at me and I'll answer you." He diverted his eyes to the tabletop with a muttered apology. If nothing else, the man knew how to apologize, and he did it, often. "No," she said sincerely. "I don't think you would abuse anyone…except maybe yourself."

He looked up. "Why's that?"

"You seem to me to be a man who's very hard on himself."

He found himself studying her again. "What makes you say that?"

His questions never stopped…just like a kid, she mused again. "I don't know. That's just an impression I get."

She was more like him than she realized, he reflected. But he had revealed enough for now. If she stayed, she'd get to know him. He wasn't one to open up to someone he didn't know. "Let's get back to the squad…" He paused. "If you're done."

He could be taught, she smiled to herself. Little by little, he was remembering he had a partner, and he was stopping to consider her before he leaped headlong into something. "Yes, I'm done."

They headed back to the squad, each reflecting on the other in silence as they walked.


	7. Warehouse Confrontation

They had been searching for the suspect and his daughter for several days, and Eames was beginning to believe Goren was right, that he had taken his daughter and fled the country. No activity on credit cards, the bank, nothing…

Goren sat at his desk, studying the file in front of him. Eames was filling out paperwork, glancing up at him every few minutes. He was certainly intense, like everyone said he was. Suddenly, he sat up straight. "Ah, no…no…" He slammed the file shut, ignoring the looks of those around him. He jumped to his feet, looking at her and saying, "Come on, Eames."

At least he wasn't forgetting her anymore. By the time she got to the elevator, he was already in the car, motioning for her to hurry. The elevator was too slow for him and he began pacing. That made her nervous. "What's wrong?"

"I was."

The door opened and he was out and halfway to the street before she got out of the elevator. What the hell…? He hesitated at the doors, motioning for her to hurry. She ran as fast as she could, mentally making a note to wear shoes she could run in from now on. "These are not running shoes, Goren," she snapped as he held the door open for her.

"Just hurry."

He slid behind the wheel and had the car in gear by the time she was in her seat, the door barely closed as he pulled into traffic. She flipped on the red light and buckled her seatbelt. By the time he stopped the car, at an old warehouse off the Bronx-Queens Expressway, and jumped out, she was white. She had driven with a lot of cops, but she had never had a ride like that one before. She got out and ran toward the warehouse after her partner.

Suddenly, the sound of gunshots echoed through the empty air and both of them dove for cover. She didn't miss the fact that several of those bullets hit the dirt near where he had been. Pistol in hand, she called out, "You all right, Goren?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Fine." Sort of. Between the car ride and getting shot at, she was sure she had gained more than a few white hairs. She pulled the radio off her belt, giving their location and the 'shots fired' alert that would bring cops from two boroughs to their location. Looking around the end of the car she was behind, she searched for her partner. What the hell was wrong with him? He was making his way toward the warehouse, gun still holstered. Another shot dug into the ground just a few feet from him. He was going to get his stupid ass shot. She turned her attention to locating the shooter, but the damn warehouse was full of windows. Then she heard Goren call out, "Martin?"

Silence for a moment, then, "Who the hell are you?"

Well, damn. Goren knew who was shooting at them. This guy was full of surprises. "My name's Goren. I'm a detective with the Major Case squad."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm getting shot at, and I don't particularly care for it. Are you alone?"

"No. I've got a kid in here with me."

"Is she ok?"

"She's fine."

"She's your daughter, isn't she?"

"Yeah. How the hell did you know that?"

"We know you killed your wife, and we're here to take you in."

"You have no idea what she put me through!"

"That's not for us to decide. That's for the courts. Martin, this parking lot is going to be full of cops in less than five minutes. You'll never walk away from this unless we can figure it out in the next three minutes. I don't want to see your little girl get hurt, and I know you don't either."

"Let me see you, Goren."

_No_, Eames yelled in her mind. He would be a clear target if he stepped into the open, which is exactly what he did, hands away from his sides, no gun in sight.

"Goren!" she hollered.

He waved a hand at her and stepped toward the warehouse. "I'm right here."

"Where's your gun?"

"Still holstered."

"Where's your partner?"

"Over there by that Buick. She won't do anything."

"How do I know that?"

"She's not going to take the chance of hurting your daughter. Bring her out here and let's end this without any bloodshed. Once this lot is full of cops, I can't make any promises. With it just being me and my partner, I can."

Silence.

"Come on, Martin. You don't want to add any more to what you're facing. Killing a cop will get you death row."

"What will happen to my daughter?"

"If there are any relatives willing to take her in, she'll be placed with them until you get out of prison."

"Promise me she'll be ok."

"She'll be ok, Martin. I give you my word."

"My wife's sister will take her."

"Good. I'll make sure they know that."

"And if I step out that door…"

"I'll wait for you. No shots will be fired."

"Ok, wait by that door right down there. We'll be right out."

She watched, dumbfounded, as her idiot partner headed for the door, effectively placing himself between the suspect and the officers who were starting to arrive. She gave the order to stand by and watched as the warehouse door opened. The suspect emerged, handing his gun to the big cop and letting him cuff him. His little girl stood beside him, looking frightened and small. Eames crossed the parking lot, arriving as Goren let Martin say good-bye to his daughter. The cuffed man looked into Goren's face. "See that they take good care of her."

"I will."

Two uniformed officers led him away.


	8. Aftermath

Eames glared at her partner, wondering just how much of a partner he considered her. "How did you know he was here?"

"I was looking through his records. He used to work out here, until they shut the place down a couple of years ago. I took a shot that he'd hide out here."

"Yeah, you almost took a damn shot..."

He frowned at her, but she had turned away. Now what was she mad at? He wondered if all female partners were this much work. Turning back toward the steps, he saw the little girl, shivering and frightened. "Eames," he called softly. She turned as he sat on the steps beside the child. "Hi, Kelly. My name is Bobby, and this is my friend Alex. How are you doing?"

She looked up at him, eyes wide and scared. She nodded. "Ok, I think. Thank you for not shooting my daddy."

"I try not to shoot people."

"He shot at you."

"He was scared. Sometimes people do things they wouldn't usually do when they're scared." She nodded. Without saying anything, the child climbed into his lap and snuggled against his chest. He looked surprised, but he let her stay there, resting his arm around her so she would feel safe. Gradually, her shivering subsided. Quietly, he said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Ok."

"We know you called the police when your mommy was hurt. That was exactly the right thing to do, and it was very smart of you. Did you see how your mommy got hurt?"

She nodded, not moving away from him. "I was hiding in the closet," she whispered.

"Can you tell me about it?"

She nodded again. "I saw Daddy hitting her. He chased her over the bed and he hit her more. Then he left, and I came out and tried to tell Mommy to get up, so we could go away, to Uncle Trevor's house. But she wouldn't get up and she was bleeding, so I called 911, like she told me to do if something was wrong. Then Daddy came back and I went with him, and he brought me here while Mommy gets better. We've been camping."

Goren smiled. "Is that what he called it?"

"Uh, huh. We ate hot dogs and roasted marshmallows over a fire inside. We even slept in a tent."

"That sounds like fun."

She giggled. "It was." She took a deep breath and pushed herself closer against the big cop. "When is Mommy going to be better?"

He looked at his partner, who had no idea what to say. He faltered for a moment, knowing that the professionals should be dealing with this. But he couldn't lie to her. "Your mommy was hurt badly, Kelly."

"So who is going to take care of me?"

"Your daddy said you can stay with your aunt, if you want to."

The little girl nodded. "That would be good."

He nodded at a female officer who had just come over to them. "This officer will make sure you're well taken care of. She'll get you something to eat and drink and someplace to stay until your aunt can come to get you, ok?"

"Can't I just stay with you?"

"I'm afraid not, as fun as that would be. I still have work to do. But Officer…" He glanced quickly at her nametag. "…Harrison is going to take good care of you." He looked at her. "Right, Officer?"

"I sure will."

Kelly finally nodded and said, "Ok. Will I be able to see my daddy?"

"Soon," he said.

She slid off his lap, took the officer's hand and started to walk off with her. She stopped suddenly, let go of her hand and ran to Goren. Climbing onto the step beside him, she threw her small arms around his neck. "Thank you for not killing my daddy."

Then she ran down the steps and left with the officer.

Eames had no idea what to make of her partner, but she was still furious at him for everything that had happened since they'd left 1 PP. She stewed in silence as they walked toward the car. When they got there, she stopped and held out her hand. "Give me the keys, Goren."

He looked at her, surprised. But he offered no argument, dropping the keys into her hand. She got behind the wheel as he climbed into the passenger seat. Neither said a word as they drove back to the squad.


	9. He Walks Alone

In silence they got into the elevator and began the ride up to the squad room. Suddenly, she pulled the stop button and rounded on him, hitting him square in the chest with both hands as she shoved him back into the wall. "Damn you, Goren! You scared the shit out of me today! First of all, you're a maniac behind the wheel, and I do _not_ like seeing my life flash before my damn eyes! Secondly, I am not any more fond of getting shot at or watching my partner potentially walk his big stupid ass into a bullet! I want to know what the hell we're getting into, when we're getting into it and why! No more fucking surprises, got it?"

He stared at her for a moment, unsure of whether to reply or not. When he nodded his head, she released him and slammed the button to resume their ascent to the squad. She stormed to her desk and sat down, refusing to look at him. He dropped into his chair, looking at her but not certain if it was safe to speak. She was a small woman, but she was fearless. He had never been dressed down like that by anyone. Finally deciding not to take the chance, he pulled a few forms out of his desk and went to work. Eames sat there for a few minutes before she got up and went to see Deakins.

Goren looked up, watching her go. He hoped he hadn't screwed this up. He liked working with Eames. She was smart and he liked her sharp wit. She wasn't afraid to tell him off, and he knew that sometimes that was just what he needed. He hadn't cared much about keeping a partner in the past, but this one…he really wanted her to stay as his partner.

Deakins looked up as Eames came in and closed the door. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do it, Captain. He almost got us killed out there today. I…I'm done."

"What happened?"

"First of all, he drives like a maniac. He took us out to some god-forsaken warehouse off the BQE, where some nut was holed up with his daughter, shooting at us. I lost five years off my life today."

"Where's the suspect?"

"In custody."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No."

"Did you return fire?"

"No. Goren talked him into giving up with no more shots fired. He's a good negotiator."

"He's a very good negotiator. I'm sorry you had a rough time today, Alex."

"If he had told me what was going on, it wouldn't have been so bad. I at least would have known what to expect."

"You can work that out with him. He's not used to explaining himself, though I guess he should be. One of the biggest problems he has is turning 'me' into 'us,' if you know what I mean. But it's not entirely his fault."

"Well, his fault or not, I do not like surprises, especially ones that can get him or me killed."

"Alex…"

"I tried, Captain. Two months with him is a very long time."

Deakins looked defeated. "If you're sure…"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He sighed. "Turn in your letter and I'll look for new partners for both of you."

"Thank you." When she went back to her desk, her partner wasn't there. Kind of relieved, she made short work of her request for a new partner. Looking at the letter as it sat on the desk in front of her, she looked again at his empty chair. It was really creepy to watch him at the scene of a homicide…and he was so odd…but he had been very good with that little girl…he could be sweet and gentle. Such an enigma. Shaking her head, she signed the letter and took it to Deakins. "I'm going home, Captain."

He nodded. "Where's your partner?"

"I have no clue."

"Ok, then…have a good night. And, Alex, I do wish you'd think about this some more."

"I'll think about it, but don't count on me changing my mind."

He nodded and she left. Damn. He'd had such hope that Eames would be the one who was tough enough and understanding enough to stick it out with Goren. He was beginning to wonder if there was a detective in the department who could work with him. It seemed as though the path Bobby Goren had chosen to walk was one he would have to walk alone.


	10. Compromise

Several days later, Eames was finishing her dinner dishes when the doorbell rang. Drying her hands on a towel, she went to the door, surprised to find her partner standing on the other side. "Goren?"

"I'm sorry to bother you at home, Eames."

"We have a case?"

"No. I…just wanted to talk to you."

Thinking he must have heard about her request, she braced herself for an argument. "Come in."

"I won't stay long. I just want to…apologize."

"For what?"

"I was thinking about what went down the other day, out at the warehouse, and I wasn't fair to you. I…should have told you what was going on. But I'm just not used to working…_with_ a partner."

"Do you think that maybe if you tried a little harder you could keep a damn partner?"

"I do try. It just doesn't…occur to me to explain myself."

"Why? You think I can read your mind?"

"No…well, maybe...I don't know, Eames. Maybe I expect too much."

"You're an idiot, Goren."

"I guess so."

She laughed. She still had no idea what to make of this big, enigmatic but brilliant cop she called her partner. "You want some coffee or something?"

"No, thanks. I don't want to intrude on your time any more. I just wanted to stop by to apologize, since you were gone when I got back to the squad room and I haven't had a chance to talk to you at work. I'll…try harder not to throw any more surprises your way. But it'll help if you…remind me when I forget."

"Don't worry about that."

He gave her a small smile and pulled a little box from his pocket. "I wanted to give you this, too. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Eames."

He left. She looked at the box with a puzzled frown. Opening it she found a small Matchbox police car and a set of keys. Pulling out the enclosed card, she read: _Eames, Sorry if my driving unsettled you. You can do the driving if it'll make you feel better. Goren._

She smiled. Maybe they could make this work after all. He seemed willing to adjust to her needs. The least she could do was accommodate his…and his most immediate need seemed to be a permanent partner.

The next morning he was at his desk when she got there. A cup of coffee and a white wax bag sat on her desk. She had been surprised to find the black SUV outside her apartment this morning. She looked into the bag. A cheese danish. She smiled at him. "Thanks. How'd you get home last night?"

He shrugged. "Subway."

"That's a bit of a walk to the nearest station."

"Not a big deal." He turned back to his paperwork.

She studied him. "Thanks, Goren."

He smiled at her. "I don't want you to have to stop that elevator again."

She laughed. "Then behave yourself."

"I'll try."

_So will I_, she thought. She got up and went to Deakins' office. "Captain?"

"Come on in."

She closed the door and asked, "Any luck finding him another partner?"

"No. Why?"

"Is it too late to withdraw my request?"

Deakins looked surprised. "Withdraw it?"

She nodded. "I think that maybe Goren and I can work it out after all."

The captain smiled. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that, Alex. I'll withdraw your request immediately."

"Thanks."

"Can I ask you what changed your mind?"

She looked out the glass toward her partner. "He did."

"Alex, he didn't know about it."

"I know that. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell him. He's very…different from any partner I've ever had."

"I think it's fairly safe to say he's one of a kind."

"Thank God." She smiled. "I think we'll do all right, Captain."

"Thanks, Alex."

"For what?"

"For reconsidering. I was running out of options for partners for him."

She nodded and returned to her desk. She pulled the danish from the bag. "How did you know I liked cheese danishes best?"

He didn't look up, but she saw his mouth turn into a smile. "Nearly every morning for the past two months that's what you've gotten: a cheese or cherry danish with your coffee, heavy on the sugar. You get the cheese most often, so that's what I got you."

She studied him for a moment before she smiled at him. "Thanks, Bobby."

He returned her smile then went back to his paperwork. She sat down and pulled several forms from her desk, working as she ate her breakfast. She felt good about her decision to remain his partner. He was an odd man, but he had a good heart. She looked up at him. "You were very good with that little girl. She looked comfortable with you."

"More comfortable than you were?"

"Yes…but she didn't see you work a homicide." He laughed, and she liked the sound of it. "You're…different, Goren."

"Is that a good thing?"

"I haven't decided yet. Ask me again in six months."

He smiled. She was planning to stick around. That was good. Maybe she would be the one who would last. He resolved to do his best to accommodate her, to make sure it was not a decision she would regret. He crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it playfully across the desks at her. She looked up, catching the smile in his eyes before he looked down at his paperwork. Smiling back at him, she threw the paper back, hitting him in the head. They laughed…and began to relax with one another. So began their partnership and their friendship…and both would last.

_Fin_.

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**A/N: It was easy to get this one finished driving across the country with not much else to do :-) Hope y'all liked it, and, as always, thanks so much for the reviews.**


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